


Chelsea, shippy gen, fluff

by prompt_fills



Category: Football RPF
Genre: FC Chelsea, Gen, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 09:50:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompt_fills/pseuds/prompt_fills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gen with shippy undertones: Chelsea FC visits the Nepomuk statue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chelsea, shippy gen, fluff

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote gen with shippy undertones for [](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/profile)[**footballkink2**](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/) , PP4, [for this prompt](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/9768.html?thread=3911464#t3911464) left by anon who wanted _literally anything with Chelsea FC_ because _Chelsea have so many great characters_ that are _barely written about_.  
>  No harm intended, all lies, not true. Inspired by Chelsea’s trip to the Nepomuk statue; Petr indeed lead the group, Juan talked to him, Eva Carneiro was there as well, Fernando looked sad, and all the players were wonderful to their fans. The rest of it happened only in my little imaginary world.

Petr inhales the chilly air, enjoying walking down the familiar streets once again. He eavesdrops on the conversation of the people passing by. The ease at which he understands the snippets of their conversations is comfortingly familiar.

Juan falls into step with him. “Looks like it could start snowing any second now,” he says, tilting his head up to the sky.

“Hm?” Petr looks up as well but then he shakes his head. “No. It might rain, though. We’d be better hurry up.”

“You tell _them_ ,” the Spaniard smiles a little, nodding with his head to the rest of their teammates who are trailing behind.

Fernando appears at Juan’s side. “Are we there yet?” he asks Petr sulkily, crossing his arms. It’s the third time Petr heard that question. And the _whole_ walk won’t take but twenty minutes tops.

“Nearly there, nearly there,” Petr reassures him, pointing up at the bridge in front of them. Fernando huffs and Juan makes some remark that Petr doesn’t catch. Fernando doesn’t laugh like Petr expects him to. He tugs his hood lower over his face and steps further away from their group.

“How old is that bridge?” Juan wonders aloud. The goalkeeper gives him a sideway glance but Juan seems genuinely interested. Petr tells him all he knows.

“I’m hungry! I want my lunch!” Frank calls out in mock complaint, interrupting the little history lecture.

“Yeah, and I’m freezing!” John chimes up next to Frank.

“You shut up, at least you’re not wearing a t-shirt!”

“I’m going to kick your ass if you get sick,” Eva threatens, causing several chuckles.

People start recognizing them by then and Petr is a bit proud at the patience his teammates show to the fans. He shakes a few hands himself, signs some posters and poses for a couple of pictures. Someone wishes him good luck, which is nice, considering that in a few hours he’ll do his best to help his team beat Sparta.

Some kid runs past them, nearly colliding with Fernando. Then the kid swivels around and his big, awestruck eyes gaze up at Fernando. Petr would swear he hears Juan suck in a breath. Fernando manages a weak smile, grabbing the kid’s shoulder with one hand and pulling his hood down enough for his eyes to be seen with the other.

The picture is snapped and the kid runs away again. Juan grins at Fernando and the two of them start talking rapidly. Petr tunes out the waterfall of incomprehensible words.

“Okay, we’re here,” Petr announces finally, gesturing toward the statue that is supposed to bring them luck. “You should touch this,” he reaches over in a quick, symbolic gesture.

“Lucky, lucky, lucky,” Oscar chants, repeating Petr’s actions. When he leans back, David is watching him wishfully.

“What?” Oscar prompts.

“Nothing,” David says, reaching over to trace his fingers around the cold plaque. “It’s St Valentine’s Day,” he offers randomly and Oscar frowns, baffled. Eden shoves him aside while he is still trying to figure out David’s train of thoughts.

Once Eden is done, he elbows Gary’s side. “Now you.” Gary tears himself away from his phone long enough to give the statue the briefest touch.

Petr is leaning against the bridge, watching them. Then he remembers something and turns to give Juan a quizzical look over the rim of his glasses. “Why didn’t you–”

Juan’s cheeks are pink but it’s probably from the cold. “You told me the statue brings you luck but that the stars will grant you _any_ wish.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Petr nods, pointing a little further ahead to the wish-granting cross. He looks over his shoulder, trying to guess if the level of Benítez’s patience is already running low, and then he smirks at Juan. “Well, c’mon then, we still have a little time.”

Juan beams up at him gratefully and Petr tries very hard not to laugh aloud.


End file.
